Monarchy
by Neleothesze
Summary: Life at court is never dull. A series of drabbles set post-Blight. Multiple Pairings.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Dragon Age and the characters do not belong to me.

**Rumour****s**

His feet ached from waiting in line and he was trying very hard not to fidget.

From his throne the king was watching the proceedings with a bored look. To the ruler's side, the queen, a deceptively pleasant smile on her face, nodded as the messengers went through the greetings.

If his information was correct, the queen was the real power in Ferelden. Daughter of the late Teryn Cousland and a Grey Warden to boot, she had united dwarves, elves and mages in the fight against the Blight. It was she that he would have to impress.

His neck was getting stiff from being held in the same position and his nose was starting to itch. Sighing, he turned back to examining his surroundings.

Flanking the royal couple were two stoic-looking guards and his majesty's advisor. He would have thought them fools for trusting their safety to only two guards, had he not sensed the figures keeping watch in the shadows.

His spies said that the royals' master assassin was an ex-Antivan Crow. He stifled a snort. As if the Crows would ever let a promising assassin get away from their clutches... Alive.

The informers also added that palace rumor placed the assassin in the royal bed more often than it did in shadowy halls. If tales were to be believed – and he was fairly skeptical – both king and queen enjoyed the pleasures of the Antivan elf who the servants had dubbed the royal concubine.

Still, he would have to watch his words. An assassin guarded against physical attacks. A lover guarded against insults – real or perceived. One frown from the king and the meeting – and his life – could be cut alarmingly short.

The itch worsened. The Orlesian ambassador sighed.

This just wasn't his day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: Dragon Age and the characters do not belong to me.

**Author's Note**: Elissa is the standard female Cousland name. I'm going to go with that for now. :)

**Mercy**

Zevran stretched languorously.

'Good morning, my Lord. I see our beautiful lady is already gone…?' he inquired, turning to watch his companion's sleepy face. Alistair burrowed his head deeper into the pillows.

'Important meeting with the some representative or other…' the king mumbled.

It was such a clear sign of trust – Alistair relaxing even without Elissa present - that the elf couldn't hide his pleased smile. Splaying his hands on his lover's back, he gently caressed the other man.

'I assume Leliana is attending to her safety?' he asked between kisses.

Guiding the king on his back, Zevran deftly straddled him and began nibbling on his collarbone. Between harsh breaths, Alistair struggled to remember the question.

'Erm…Yes, yes she is - together with Eric, Marcus and Elissa's guards.'

'Then, my Lord… it would be safe to assume we won't be needed for a while.' the elf whispered, pinning his lover's hands above his head.

Feeling a blush creeping up his neck, the king decided take the path braver men had chosen in the face of such an unrelenting assault: give in and pray for mercy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Dragon Age and the characters do not belong to me.

**Belonging**

Alistair had asked her, on their first night as king and queen, if she ever regretted having gone through the ritual...

She had told him that growing up as a Teyrn' daughter, in the middle of all the Highever court intrigue, she had learnt the value of survival; That between losing him and holding the clothes for Morrigan and he, while they made love, she would have held clothes, hands... held an army at bay, to ensure the ritual went smoothly.

'We have given up our freedom to be Grey Wardens, Alistair. But duty and survival don't always balance the scales.' she explained as he paced the room.

'If that's the case I wonder why should one bother doing one's duty at all?'

'It all depends on who 'one' is. Arl Eamon, Duncan, your brother... they all understood that a leader must know which pawns are to be sacrificed on the altar of duty and which are too important to risk in a gamble...'

'And here I thought _you_ had done it out of love.' he spat, stalking out of the room.

Leaning on the windowsill, Elissa gazed at the moon with a wistful smile.

'We are your loyal ones, Alistair... Duncan did not pick assassins and cutthroats as Grey Wardens for their willingness to bow down and let the guillotine fall. He picked us so the rest of you could always have a backup plan... Some people's honor is too precious to sully.'

* * *

'He still doesn't understand you...'

Elissa shifted to allow the figure behind her a spot at the window. After settling beside her, Zevran turned to gauge her mood.

'Not entirely... But he loves me and once our first child is born, he will understand.'

'Does he still think I am a bad influence, my dear?' he asked jokingly.

She hummed a noncommittal reply without taking her eyes off the night sky.

'Do you ever regret loving us, Zev? So many doors closed... and for so little, at times.'

'Never.'

With a feather-light kiss on her shoulder, the elf turned to leave the room. Their acceptance, their love, their unwavering trust... It was mind-boggling. Not that he would ever tell them in so many words...

Only at night, when the three of them were in bed, during their long hours of passionate lovemaking, would he still whisper between bites and kisses... 'I am yours.'


End file.
